


Keeping Secrets

by boywonder



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:36:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2217693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boywonder/pseuds/boywonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It stood to reason that it was only when Jack no longer checked the shadows, and only when he was far away from Burgess, that the Nightmare King found him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



Jack thought that being a Guardian meant total acceptance from the others all the time. In his excitement at being accepted – at being _believed_ in – he forgot that the others had always been way too busy to bother with Jack Frost, the annoying winter spirit. Getting fancy elf-made shoes and an official title from Manny…didn’t end up changing that a whole lot. Jack hadn’t fundamentally changed, after all. He was still an annoying winter spirit, among other things. And he didn’t have a holiday or a celebration. He still did snow days, obviously, but those could interfere with other things (like Easter). The other Guardians tolerated him – and _sometimes_ welcomed him, if they weren’t too busy – but the world hadn’t exactly changed any more than Jack had.

 

He lost the shoes in the first month of having them. They were kind of silly anyway, and he’d gone without for so many long years that it felt _weird_ to wear them now. He didn’t have anyplace that was really “home,” so he just left them somewhere near the North Pole, in case the elves or whatever wanted them back, then took off again.

 

He always wandered back to Burgess – like he’d been doing for the past 300 years – but even now, there was a hollow feeling there. Most of the kids in the town believed in him, and that was a good feeling. What _wasn’t_ a good feeling is that he was never allowed to go near them. Some sort of Guardian rules meant he wasn’t supposed to interact with the kids whose rights to have fun he was protecting. Sure, he was used to being alone, but…now that people _wouldn’t_ always walk right through him, he wasn’t allowed to interact with them at all? Who _made_ these rules, anyway? He was sure he didn’t agree with them.

 

But he followed them anyway, and stayed lonely.

 

Sometimes at night, when he saw Sandy’s gold sand in the air, he’d follow it to a window of a familiar kid and stay there, looking in at them, wondering what dreams were forming from the glowing trail.

 

One night, he _thought_ he saw the sand darken for a minute, and alarm bells went off.

 

_Pitch._

 

He spun around, but there was no sign of the Bogeyman, even in the shadows on the street below. When Jack turned back to the window, the sand was definitely gold, and the child in the bed looked peaceful, sleeping with a slight smile on her face. Jack waited for another few minutes, but nothing changed.

 

He figured he imagined it, but he was still tense.

* * *

The nights passed, like they always did. The season changed, and Jack had to find colder climates for awhile. Though Burgess wasn’t exactly the warmest place on earth, it still got warmer than he liked in the summertime. He wasn’t a snowman; he wouldn’t _melt_. He just didn’t really _like_ the heat.

 

In the winter, though, he came home, like he had every year he could remember.

 

A few years passed that way. Jack saw North or Tooth on occasion, and if they weren’t too busy, that was enough to stave off loneliness for a little while. Bunny was never much company, though they didn’t have the passive-aggressive war they’d been carrying on for the past couple centuries anymore. And Sandy wasn’t much company either, not only because he couldn’t talk out loud. He was just a very different personality from Jack, and Jack found that hard to relate to.

 

Every now and then, during the nights he spent checking on kids sleeping, he’d see that thread of dark sand swirl through the gold, and he’d get his feathers ruffled. He always expected to see Pitch’s eyes glowing from the shadows like some parody of Sandy, but the Nightmare King was never there. He tried to talk to Sandy about it, but Sandy waved him away impatiently, with some fast-moving letters and pictures. Jack thought he caught “N O R M A L” spelled in the sand, but he couldn’t be sure. Either way, it wasn’t something Sandy was worried about, so it was something of a lost cause.

 

After awhile, he stopped checking for Pitch in the shadows, and wrote off the tiny threads of black as his imagination, though he always lingered in the window for a few minutes longer.

 

Jack, being a spirit himself, never dreamed either way, so it never occurred to him that nightmares could exist without Pitch’s influence.

 

It also never occurred to him that _Pitch_ existed the same as any of them did – with belief.

 

They had chased the Nightmare King out of Burgess, taken the fear out of the children in that area, and thwarted his plans to erase the Guardians from existence. But they hadn’t exactly gotten rid of all the fear in the world, and the older Guardians had forgotten how patient Pitch was; Jack had never really known.

 

It stood to reason that it was only when Jack no longer checked the shadows, and only when he was far away from Burgess, that the Nightmare King found him.

 

He had gone north, keeping with the colder climate, and was just wandering aimlessly. He was wandering through another small town (he was always drawn to these small towns, because something in him felt more at home in them), sliding between the buildings on a stream of ice that he created as he went. It was cold enough that it didn’t melt behind him, instead leaving a winding ice trail through the streets and between the buildings.

 

He reached a dead end between two old houses that had been repurposed into businesses, and turned to go back the way he’d come. He slowed as he turned, though, the wind dying behind him. He tried to call it again, but it was gone, and the air was too still.

 

“Hello, Jack,” came the voice, echoing off the stone walls so it seemed like it came from all around.

 

Jack stopped and stared into the darkness. It wasn’t so much that Pitch appeared dramatically – though that was sort of his style – as that he wasn’t there one moment, and the next, he was, eyes glowing faintly gold in the darkness.

 

“Pitch,” Jack said, rather dumbly.

 

“So surprised to see me that you can’t even manage a childish insult?” Pitch asked, clucking his tongue in mock-disappointment.

 

“Were you _following_ me?” Jack answered, accusingly, though he ignored Pitch’s jibe.

 

Pitch chuckled at that. “Don’t flatter yourself, _Guardian_ ,” he said, adding just enough venom to the last word to make it sting in Jack’s ears, “I go wherever the shadows are deepest, and the fear is the thickest. Out here, in these wilderness towns, children still remember what lurks in the dark.”

 

“The black sand,” Jack said, his hand tightening on his staff.

 

If Pitch had had eyebrows to speak of, he would have raised one. As it was, he tilted his head and looked mildly puzzled. “Black sand?” he asked, thinking for a moment before continuing on. “Ah, yes. Nightmares. Are you really so naïve, Jack?” As he spoke, he walked toward the winter spirit, though he didn’t actually come within reach of his staff. He settled for circling around him, weaving in and out of the shadows. Sometimes, the only part of him that was visible was his glowing eyes. “Do you think that I _created_ the darkness in dreams? Why, now you’re flattering _me_.”

 

Jack tried to turn to follow him, to keep his eyes on Pitch at all times, but the Nightmare King moved too quickly, too _fluidly_ , as if he was made of the darkness. “What are you talking about? I saw what you did with the sand!”

 

“You saw how I _controlled_ it, yes. But when did you see me create it? Alas, even I cannot take credit for that. Humans did that all on their own, polluting the dreams that Sanderson gives them with their own fears and misgivings. Even the youngest humans have _something_ to fear.”

 

Jack almost shuddered at the tone in Pitch’s words. He knew how to inspire fear in others, that was for sure. Even though Jack didn’t feel emotions the way he had as a human, and even though he didn’t exactly _fear_ anything, he wasn’t entirely unaffected by Pitch’s practiced theatrics.

 

“Yeah, they have _you_ to fear.”

 

“More flattery!” Pitch laughed, coming out of the shadows again and chancing getting closer to the youngest Guardian. “If all nightmares were about me, do you think I’d have even needed to fight any of your Guardian friends? I’d be _unstoppable_. There is more to fear than simply my presence. Though as long as fear exists in the world – as long as humans find some reason to be afraid – I’ll certainly be there to enjoy it.”

 

“Is _that_ what you’re doing here?”

 

Pitch made a motion that seemed to be shrugging a shoulder, but with the way he seemed more shadow than solid, it was hard to tell for sure. “Something like that. But what are _you_ doing here? Winter will leave this place behind in a few short weeks, and then where will you be? Certainly not assisting with Easter?”

 

Jack made a face for a second before he caught himself and forced his expression into a frown instead.

 

Pitch’s eyes flashed; he caught the expression, but decided not to comment on it for the time being.

 

“I promised Bunny I wouldn’t mess with Easter anymore. But I’m not _helping_ , either.” Try as he might, Jack couldn’t keep all of the hurt out of his words. He hadn’t had nearly as long as Pitch had to perfect his tone of voice.

 

Pitch let his smile fade, and affected a look of sadness, or perhaps pity. “That _is_ too bad, Jack. I’d have thought that by now, you’d be assisting the other Guardians. Well, maybe not the _Tooth Fairy_ , in all those warm climates. But certainly the rabbit. Or filling in for the elves and yetis up at the Pole?”

 

Jack shook his head. “It’s not like that,” he said.

 

“So it appears. Pity. I’d have thought that they’d have let you in to the more exclusive aspects of their little club.”

 

Jack glared at Pitch. “You’re just saying things like that. There’s no exclusive aspects.”

 

“Am I? Aren’t there? Can you _really_ be sure? Have they never hidden things from you before?”

 

“Shut up!” Jack said, taking a step back.

 

“They didn’t keep your memories from you, though surely they knew what teeth were related to? They didn’t keep from you that your beloved Man in the Moon talked to _them_ , all those years, leaving you alone?”

 

“They weren’t _keeping_ any of that from me,” Jack said, but there was a thread of uncertainty in his voice, hanging there frayed and waiting for Pitch to follow to the source.

 

“No?” Pitch asked, sliding behind Jack. Jack was tense, but he didn’t step away or even turn around to try to follow Pitch. He forced himself to stay still, to not play into whatever Pitch’s game was. He’d done that before, and had almost ruined things for the other Guardians. He had to be more careful this time.

 

The Nightmare King continued, “They were just _not telling_ you about it. Is that different from keeping it from you? I wonder.”

 

Pitch moved back around, making a complete circle around Jack. “I, on the other hand, have kept nothing from you.”

 

“You tried to get rid of all the Guardians! You tried to get rid of _me_?”

 

Pitch tilted his head again. “Is that what I did? Get rid of the Guardians, yes. They’ve plagued me for _centuries_ with their meddling. You, I simply needed to stop _fighting_ me. I’d have come back for you when I was done. I told you, Jack, we’d make quite a team. Darkness and cold. Cold and _fear_. Easy bedfellows, you could call them.”

 

Jack glared up at Pitch. “What a bunch of crap,” he said with a frown.

 

Pitch’s expression never changed. “So easy to ridicule me, because you think that I am bad, and they are good. The world isn’t painted in black and white, Jack. Will you learn that, if you see the other secrets they keep from you? I wonder.”

 

This time when Pitch moved out of Jack’s line of sight, Jack spun to follow him. He was met with the shadows on the wall, though, and no Pitch.

 

“I will never lie to you, Jack. Never keep anything from you. When you get tired of secrets, call my name in the darkness. Or return to your loneliness. It makes no difference to me.” Pitch’s words echoed on the stones, but he himself was gone. Jack looked for him, and called his name then, but there was no answer.

 

Jack kicked a rock at the wall in frustration, but there was still no answer.

 

He told himself that Pitch was just messing with him, but as the winter turned to spring and he had to move on again, Pitch’s words festered inside him.

 

He tried to get answers from the others. Bunny stomped him away with flourishes of his feet and ears, saying that he had better things to do than babysit. Jack froze a dozen eggs and left them sitting at the exit to one of his tunnels as payback; it was petty, sure, but it wasn’t _actually_ hurting Easter overall. Jack couldn’t change who he was at heart, and fun often equated to mischief, especially when he was pushed.

 

He couldn’t get too near to Tooth. She moved too fast, and it was too hot near her home. He caught a baby tooth coming out of a window and tried to get her to deliver a message, but she was frantically preoccupied with her job. She had a smile and some chitters for him, but nothing actually _useful_. He caught another, but got the same treatment. By the third one, they were getting annoyed with him. Every question he tried to ask got frowning faces, where usually the little fairies were quick to offer him smiles.

 

Maybe they _didn’t_ really want to share with him.

 

He finally made his way to the North Pole; since it was nowhere near Christmas, he figured North would have time for him. At least, more than the other had.

 

The yetis let him in now, so that was a plus, though he felt like they were still giving him suspicious glances every now and then.

 

Jack didn’t mention Pitch; he figured if he did that, he’d never get anything actually accomplished. Also, Pitch hadn’t really _done_ anything, so why bother getting North’s alarms raised? Jack just wanted answers.

 

He didn’t really get any. He _never_ got answers about Manny. North said that the Man in the Moon didn’t speak to them regularly, but Jack only mostly-believed that. Why would there be the thing at the North Pole that seemed to send messages if Manny never used it? But maybe Manny only spoke to North? Jack couldn’t get a straight answer on that, either.

 

“Did you know that I could get my memories back? From when I was a human?” he asked, finally.

 

North looked surprised at that. “Jack, what do you need memories like that for? You cannot be human any longer.”

 

“Yeah, but did you know?”

 

“I knew Toothiana is Guardian of Memory. Like I know I am Guardian of Wonder.”

 

“Yeah, but–“

 

North raised one enormous hand, silencing Jack. “Jack. The only reason that your memories came back to you was because the teeth got stolen. Memories are kept safe when the fairies take the teeth. They were _stolen_ from Toothiana. You know that.”

 

Jack’s face turned dark for a moment, but he forced himself not to get mad right there, with all the yetis and elves around. North didn’t seem mad, after all; he seemed matter-of-fact, even though Jack’s quest for memories had almost gotten them all killed.

 

“Yeah. I know,” was all he said. He left after that, not even bothering with goodbye. North called after him, concerned, but Jack was in no mood to listen.

 

He wandered aimlessly, hearing North’s words warring with Pitch’s words.

 

_The only reason you got your memories back…_

 

It occurred to him that the only reason he got them back at all was because _Pitch_ had tricked him into being distracted by the memories. So that was a trick, but, he’d actually given Jack the memories. North and Tooth thought he wasn’t supposed to _have_ them.

 

He found himself back in the sleepy village he’d last seen the Nightmare King in.

 

He flew through the dark, too-warm town, calling Pitch’s name, with no answer.

 

Finally, just before dawn, as the shadows started to fade, he caught a glimpse of gold shining in the shadows under a tree at the edge of town.

 

“Hello, Jack,” the Nightmare King said with a smile.

 

Jack shivered.


End file.
